


Battle Scars

by SenoraKitty



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Case Fic, Drabble, Scars, Undercover John, underground fighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-01-27
Packaged: 2018-05-16 12:24:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5828479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SenoraKitty/pseuds/SenoraKitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John goes undercover to expose an illegal fighting organization.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Battle Scars

**Author's Note:**

> I had a dream about this and decided to elaborate on it. Inspired by the SCEME performance at Sherlock Seattle.

While patrons buy their gambling tickets, and find their seats John tests the flexibility and hold of the tape on his hands and wrists. He is in the ring warming up for his next match, trying to focus and drown out the buzz of the crowd.

“This geezer’s gonna get ‘is ‘ead bashed in!” A young chav from nearby crows. 

John smirks, he knows he is older than most of the other fighters, and he is not quite as toned as he once was. However, what the crowd and most fighters aren’t savvy to is his military training, which is something that never leaves a man once he’s learned how to use his body to his advantage. He is still a lethal weapon.

The crowd goes from a dull drone in the back of his mind to a roar, and John turns in time to see his opponent striding up to the ring silk boxing robe flapping about his thighs, and the hood up, obscuring his features.

Even with the anonymity the robe provides John can tell that his opponent is tall and slender. He makes note to keep low during this fight, he’ll force the man to come to him, and throw him off his center of gravity. That at least will tip the scales in John’s favor. He’s already starting to feel the effects of adrenaline pumping through his system, chuffed that he has a plan of attack to deal with his opponent quickly. He feels like he is back in boot camp all over again.

John’s opponent steps up to the post lifting one taped up fist, and the ruckus of the crowd climbs even higher. Gaining the desired reaction the opponent slips between the ropes, turning his back on John.

John scoffs at the antics of his opponent. It’s all a bit melodramatic for his taste. 

Then again the whole thing is just for show, one giant circus to draw in people with their money. The promise of a fight, of blood shed, the possibility of someone other than the paying audience member getting seriously hurt. It’s all they are really there for anyway, entertainment, something to excite them in their otherwise boring mundane lives.

John’s opponent slips off his hood to reveal dark hair slicked back and curled from sweat. The rest of the garment is removed to expose a slim wiry figure. If it were a legal fight John wasn’t sure they would even be in the same weight class. While the man’s trim and sinewy arms and legs were well muscled the man still looked as if he could be broken in half.

Something shifts in John’s stomach as he takes in the scars marring his opponents broad shoulders and back. Doubt begins to sneak in where confidence once settled well in John’s mind. Cigarette burns, and lines from deep lacerations scattered and criss-crossed the pale flesh. It was a display of chaos. 

John shakes himself. He tries convincing his own mind that this is all a part of the act. His opponent is trying to throw him off, attempting to gain sympathy to weaken John’s resolve.

Whatever this man went through it must have been hell, but that’s none of John’s concern. For all he knows his opponent is just as vicious and greedy as those who run the operation. He is nothing but another hurdle to overcome in order to get close to those behind the scenes.

His opponent turns around and sea glass colored eyes lock on his.


End file.
